Query?
by Dwindled Twine
Summary: While on duty, Momo Hinamori stumbles across a "broken" and apparently memory-less Aizen—but how can this be when that very man is locked up in the depths of Soul Society? What will become of him? And wait a second—he's left in whose care! Questions aside, a certain substitute shinigami soon finds his hands very full.


**Nota Scriptoris: **Hullo, all. Quite glad that you clicked on this story honestly. Readers _do_ make me happy, as do , we all know Aizen is one manipulative bastard, but I decided to give a nice blank slate in this fic to see how it all goes down.I'm not quite to sure if I'll ever get around to updating this fic due to forthcoming circumstances; but if it appeals to any readers, I'll try my best to update it as soon as I can.

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**Abandoned Alleyways.**

Fifth Division Lieutenant Momo Hinamori let out a small sigh as she glided across the skies above the small and insignificant town of Shibikaku. At the moment, she was on duty; and although nothing notably malevolent had occurred so far, she was rather dutiful and attentive. She had to admit though, the un-eventfulness of it all was boring her.

Squinting across the pink dappled sky, she made her way over to the rooftop of a nearby flower-shop. The sweet aroma of multiple floral plants wafted into her senses as she alighted onto the roof —the sensation was dizzying, but welcomed. She then walked across the roof, her wooden sandals clicking softly against the tiled concrete in a rhythmic pattern that resembled a ticking metronome. Nearing the brink of the roof, Momo plopped herself down on her bottom and swung her legs over the edge of the building.

She quietly stared towards the unblemished horizon (it resembled deep-blue ocean waves rolling over a tangerine coral-reef — she decided that she would paint this later) and clipped her heels against the bricked side of the building.

'_I wonder how Shiro is doing_,' Momo wondered vaguely, reminiscing on how much the small Captain had changed over the year following the Winter War. Her thoughts then began to quickly stray back towards her former Captain, and she felt a familiar pang of betrayal flutter in her small chest. '_Captain Aizen...'_

She lowered her eyes for a moment, picturing the man's solid form trapped forever in imprisonment. The lieutenant honestly still believed that he shouldn't have suffered such a punishment, regardless of the degrading opinions that had often been whispered into her ears. On the other hand, Momo wasn't quite sure what other punishment would've sufficed for the charming and traitorous man. Maybe a second chance was in order?

Shaking her dark head softly, Momo allowed the worrying thoughts to fall out of mind. Those matters were of the long-gone past; she had other things to focus on in the present, like, like—like that strange and sudden spiritual pressure that had just encompassed the area.

Standing up abruptly, Momo scanned the area with sharp scrutiny. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but the young woman knew better than to just rely on her eyes. Thus, she closed her said eyes and focused on the texture of the spiritual power and allowed it to create a trail towards its owner for her. As she was analyzing the pressure, however, she noticed that it seemed somewhat familiar, yet erratic at the same time.

The lieutenant leapt off of the building and started trailing towards the location of the spiritual pressure (it distinctly that of a shinigami's, but Momo noted that it was also slightly off...). The pressure began to become significantly stronger as she neared a dark and eerie alleyway hidden from the sun by the shadow of a taller building. Diving downwards, Momo stumbled across the asphalt road and peered into the darkness with a hint of curiosity.

"Hello?" she whispered in a delicate tone, allowing her hand to move instinctively towards her blade. "Who's there?"

A soft shifting sound answered her, like a rag being slowly dragged across a floor.

"Identify yourself!" she ordered.

After a seemingly long period of silence, Momo decided to continue forward into the umbraged alley, sharp eyes attentive. Squinting against the black shadows, the lieutenat made out features and shapes from the darkness, ranging from crumpled-up newspaper articles to toppled trashcan carts. It wasn't until she reached the very end of the alleyway that she finally was able to make out a human form among the trashed debris.

The human figure, distinctly male, was slumped up against the corner of the dingy white walls, seemingly in pain. The figure was adorned in oddly familiar, yet tattered white robes that continuously brushed against the ground as the man shifted in place. Unkempt locks of dull, brown hair clung to the stranger's face, keeping is well hidden in the darkness.

But then...

Momo felt her heart begin to flutter madly as the stranger began to slowly lift his delicate face turn towards her with warm, caramel brown eyes. Eyes that shouldn't — no couldn't possibly — be boring into her own at the very moment, eyes that she had last seen locked up several thousand feet below Soul Society, eyes that—

"C-Captain—"the shaking lieutenant gasped, her pale hand drifting from the hilt of her blade towards her gaping mouth. "Captain Aizen?"

There was a pause of uneasy quietness as Momo's address was computed into the worn-out man's mind, but much to the girl's surprise, a stoic (no, now that she thought about it, the look was rather blank) look crossed his face:

"Who?"

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**Postea Notam: **Opinions?


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